Monster
by onePushyFox
Summary: Greta, a Volturi guard, is sent to Transylvania to quash a new werewolf threat but finds that love shows up in the most unlikely of places. One Shot tailor made for Greta/erikasbuddy for The Lemon Sisters' Christmas Gift Exchange.


**A/N: This story is about Greta, also known as erikasbuddy. It is related to Twilight and all Twilight characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. Everything else, Greta and her nom-nom, belong to Greta herself. This was a Christmas present for her as part of The Lemon Sisters' gift exchange (http://the-lemon-sisters(.)blogspot(.)com/2009/11/tis-seasonmmmmmmonday-edition(.)html). She has asked that I post this for her as part of her TGIF post over at http://fragilelittlehuman(.)wordpress(.)com/. Merry Christmas, once again, Greta!!!**

**And one final thank you to uhyesplease, who not only beta'ed this but created the gift exchange in the first place. I love you like CRAZY!!!**

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Volterra, 1924

Monsters are everywhere. Even when they dress up like everyone else, they're still there: lurking; waiting; biding their time. Killing monsters is my gift. Death is my art and I craft it lovingly, skillfully; dealing it out to the mortal and immortal alike, however my master demands. It is my honor to serve the leaders of our kind. When I was called into the throne room, I had been told that I was being given another such task, but the particulars had been left to my master to explain.

"Greta," he murmured lovingly as I bowed before him. "My most favored weapon." I looked up at the man I adored. Caius was my maker as well as my master and I loved him more than any daughter had ever loved her father, more than anything in this world. He stroked my jet black hair, pushing the last few errant strands behind my ear before cupping my heart-shaped face. "There is a task I must give you, a dangerous one, and you must not fail me."

My body tensed with the desire to give him whatever he wanted and the fear that he doubted my abilities. I would never disappoint my father. There was no point to my existence other than to serve him. Failure was not an option.

"My lord, you need but tell me what you want and I will do it. Give me this task; let me prove myself to you." I chewed on my lip, a nervous habit from my days as a human, although those days were long since passed. When he smiled, it was like the sun was shining down only for me. The warmth and serenity his favor gave me was boundless, tying me effortlessly to his will.

"I know you will do as I ask, my child," he continued sitting back in his throne and gesturing for me to rise. He reached for a small parchment of paper, tied with a blood red ribbon that had been closed with a wax seal. When he handed it to me I could see that the seal was broken, but I recognized Andrei's mark. Andrei was Caius's informant in Romania, watching over the two deposed warlords Stefan and Vladimir, making sure they didn't garner enough power to pose a credible threat to the Volturi. I had heard tales of those two schemers from Andrei the few times he had been to Volterra and I knew how busy they kept him. But I couldn't imagine he would need my help keeping them in check. I quickly read through the missive and saw that it wasn't the Romanians that were at issue but some other thing that was blighting the countryside. An evil that came but once a month during the full moon, leaving blood-drained bodies in its wake: Pricolici. Werewolves.

My brow furrowed as I returned my eyes to my master. "Werewolves? I thought you had exterminated the last of them centuries ago." My father had told me how he had been attacked by the beasts almost a millennium ago and how as a result of the encounter he had made it his mission to purge the earth of that plague. For one to exist, after Caius had set his mind to eradicating them, was inconceivable.

"There are many ways for a werewolf to be made." His words came out in an angry hiss as he looked out the windows of the throne room into the pitch black night. He looked like he might elaborate but then thought better of it, concluding, "Andrei has been looking into it, but the Romanians are restless, plotting again, and his time is more valuable to me restraining them. I need you to find this werewolf, if indeed that is what it is, and destroy it."

I bowed my head obediently happy that it prevented my master from seeing my eyes. The one thing Caius feared was werewolves. If they struck him dread, would I be able to destroy one? I calmed myself with the thought that if I failed I wouldn't have to confess it, I would be destroyed. I whispered my thanks to my father for his trusting me with this task and returned to my chambers to make my arrangements.

I wanted to travel to Romania in my new Bentley, the fastest thing I had ever driven, but the countryside wasn't renowned for such modern amenities as petrol stations, so I opted for taking one of the Volturi's private planes into Alba Iulia and then running the rest of the way to Andrei's stronghold in the Apuseni Mountains. In less than a day I was sitting down with my friend discussing my latest project.

"Caius mentioned that the Romanians were getting fractious when he let me read your missive," I began as we walked into Andrei's private study. Andrei lived in an ancient, mountain fortress, deep within the mountains of Transylvania. The nearest village was a full day of travel for a human. Still, he was assiduous about secrecy, especially when discussing Volturi business. He had been watching over Vladimir and Stefan long enough to have foiled a few espionage attempts. He took few chances; his private study was deep within the recesses of the castle, which was itself built within the mountains. Even for one of our kind to overhear us, they would need to be within the castle and Andrei had his own set of trusted guards to ensure that no unwanted visitors came calling.

Despite the forbidding exterior of his residence, inside Andrei lived opulently. The floors of his castle were covered in expensive oriental carpets; his walls and ceilings were adorned with frescos; his furnishings were both beautiful and comfortable. Not that any of those luxuries were necessary for his physical comfort, but we immortals tend to cling to such soothing niceties. I wandered over to the far wall to examine a tapestry hanging there while Andrei followed behind me.

Andrei was tall and blond, a bear of a man who had been a fearsome warrior in his human days. He towered over me as I admired the artwork on the wall and I turned as I heard his weary sigh.

"These Romanians are so difficult. Sometimes I think it would have been better if we had just pushed ahead and ended them when we had the chance." He grimaced, no doubt remembering how Aro, our supreme leader, had granted Stefan and Vladimir clemency at the very end of the war that had changed the seat of power for our kind from Cluj-Napoca to Volterra.

"Always scheming, always plotting. You would think they would find some new hobby," he finished with a guffaw. One of the things I had enjoyed about Andrei the few times we met was his disposition. No matter how serious the topic of conversation, he was always able to find a small bit of humor in it, even if the humor was dark.

"Perhaps they should visit the New World," I sallied back, enjoying the moment. "I hear Jazz is all the rage. They might enjoy the fashions if nothing else." The new, body baring clothing that was becoming popular for women around the world was something that had shocked and titillated those of our kind who had been turned during more modest times.

"Perhaps," he replied. "But yes, the old ones are as busy as ever at their machinations. And this werewolf problem has come at precisely the wrong time."

"How do you know that it's a werewolf?" I asked. I hadn't been created when Caius had completed his mission to eradicate them, so I wasn't familiar with identifying them.

"The smell was our first clue," he wrinkled his nose as he explained. "It smells like…_govno_" he reverted to his native Russian. "Like wet dog shit. Truly disgusting." He shrugged lightly before continuing. "Put that smell together with the killings: always young virgins, always around the full moon, always with scared villagers whispering about a giant dog. It didn't take a genius to figure it out.

"I knew Caius would want to know right away," he went on. "I would take care of it myself, but this thing is wily. Always on the move, no discernable focus for prey, almost as if he's trying to spread his destruction out as far as possible. It started to take me and my team too far away from our area and I just couldn't risk that the Romanians would find out about it and capitalize on my distraction." He spread his hands out in a helpless gesture as he finished. I nodded along as he spoke, understanding that Vladimir and Stefan would be quick to capitalize on any perceived weakness in Andrei's oversight.

"Have there been any more attacks since you wrote?" He shook his head and beckoned me over to a map of the area he had already laying out on one of the wide tables toward the center of the room.

"I wrote just a few days after the last full moon, as soon as I confirmed that the last kill was the same as the others. It was here," he said and pointed to a place in the map north and west of their current location, "right within the old ones' territory. They're sure to be aware of it now too, that's why I need to be even more vigilant than normal."

"What did it attack?" I kept waiting for the dread to come over me, now that I was so close to the danger that sent a thrill of terror through even my master, but I continued to feel nothing but curiosity.

"An old man, hardly worthwhile in my opinion," Andrei snorted, "but who can know the thoughts of such a creature?" He spent a few more hours going over the area and the previous kills with me then showed me up to my quarters. I had no use for the lavish bed provided, but it was nice to have a place to layout the few things I brought with me.

Caius had equipped me with a few special weapons, a silver-headed ax that he had used on his campaigns long ago and some silver chains. He wasn't sure if there was anything to the metallurgical mythology behind werewolves and silver but these items had been effective pieces in his arsenal and he lent them to me hoping I would find them just as useful.

I also had a few changes of clothes, mostly the tight fitted, black leather pieces I favored for hunting. On a flight of whimsy I had brought a red cloak. The area and my prey had combined in my mind as a sort of Red Riding Hood quest and it would be a nice change from my normal dark grey cloak that marked me as one of the Volturi guard. Since this wasn't a vampire that needed to know I was there on official Volturi business, I didn't think it would be an issue. Besides if I needed to corroborate my status as one of the guard, Andrei could back me up.

I decided to start out with some reconnaissance work, dressing in a more subdued country dress Andrei had provided. I hadn't fed in a while which would at least make my eye color an unremarkable black in the grey afternoon light. As I approached the town nearby, heading into the local inn, I knew I would blend in well.

The inn was clearly the meeting space for travelers in the area and I was lucky enough to find a table near the fire so that I could easily see the patrons I was shamelessly eavesdropping on. My proximity to the hearth was also helpful in that it helped warm my skin so I didn't need to worry about inadvertently touching the barmaid who politely made sure I was well taken care of.

Most of the talk I overheard was banal, local gossip, but as the evening wore on and the drink continued to flow, the patrons became more interested in the outlandish tales of one particular traveler who had just come from the northern city of Baia Mare. He had consumed more than his share of ale that evening and was now loudly recounting a story he claimed to have heard from some gypsies he had stopped to trade with.

"Never cheat a gypsy," he exclaimed, slamming his tankard down for emphasis, "they'll curse you as soon as look at you!" That comment was greeted with a chorus of agreements. I had pulled my hood up when I entered so my snide smile was well hidden. It amused me how easily these people denigrated the gypsies, when they could easily have gypsy blood flowing through their veins. Ethnic prejudices never seemed to change, but with the perspective granted by centuries watching humanity, they grew ever more ridiculous.

"I tell you, they'll curse their own flesh and blood," the man, clearly a travelling tinkerer, continued. "I heard tell of how they tossed out one of their own who betrayed them, changing him to a beast and condemning him to an eternity of life in the shadows." His voice dropped with dramatic effect, successfully gaining him a few more listeners.

He went on to tell the tale of a young man whose sister had betrayed the tribe by having an affair with a _gadjo_. When she was found to be pregnant, she was stoned to death and burned in their ritual for the damned. The crowd, while enthralled by the story, saw nothing wrong with the punishment for the unwed mother, another prejudice that made me shake my head with distaste. Finally, the man continued, the tribal elders questioned the brother, wanting to know how he, as the head of his family, could have concealed his sister's behavior from the tribe.

The tinkerer's description of the boy's tirade, proclaiming his allegiance to the filial bond above that of the tribe, was eloquent and stirring. And, in my opinion, most certainly fictional, but then I didn't really believe there was much in this so called true story that was in fact true. The boy had cursed the elders, the man went on, calling them monsters, and more interested in his sister's blood than justice. Apparently the boy had been particularly vitriolic to the mother of the tribal leader, an old crone who was acknowledged even amongst the gypsies as a powerful witch. For the insult, she cursed him, telling him he would learn what it was to thirst for the blood of another. The boy was cast out, condemned for eternity to lurk in the forests of the countryside, unable to stop himself from preying on the weak and innocent.

By the end of the tale, every mouth in the bar was hanging open in horrified amazement. I stifled my laugh and the gullibility of these folk, reminding myself that they lived lives far more sheltered than that of their urban brethren. And it wasn't as if monsters didn't in fact roam their land. I was proof of that. And something in the man's tale was scratching at my mind, sensing a connection to the beast I was hunting. So when he headed out back to relieve himself, I followed him.

"That was an interesting tale you told," I said lightly as I turned the corner just to find him finishing his business up.

"That was no tale," he replied with a bit of a slur. "It was the God's honest truth!"

"Easy, old one," I soothed, "I'm happy to give you some gold for your tale, but I want more details." I held out a large gold coin and I could see him quickly calculating its worth. He nodded warily, holding out his hand and I went to place it in his palm but held it back, letting it hover for a moment as I added, "I _will_ know if you are lying."

I was close enough that he could sense the danger I posed. He blanched a bit, swallowed hard and squeaked, "What do you want to know?"

I was able to find out that it was a man he had been drinking with on the side of the road that had told him the tale and that, whether or not it was true, the tinkerer believed it. He didn't know who the man he had spoken to was or the purpose of his journey, but he was able to provide me with an adequate physical description and the direction he had been heading. He also confirmed that he had just arrived in the area today, making my search for his erstwhile companion easier. I could easily follow the tinkerer's scent.

I dropped the money into his grubby palm before disappearing into the night behind him. My feet flying, I raced through the forest that surrounded the main road; invisible due to my speed. I caught the tinkerer's odor easily enough and followed it for a few miles until I came across the area where he and his gypsy drinking companion must have spent their time, a small glad redolent with the scent of urine and cheap wine. I followed the second scent for a bit and came across an encampment of Roma, as they called themselves. I considered hanging about to look for the man but then decided against it. My suspicions could easily be a dead end and I wanted to investigate the site where Andrei had said the last kill had been. I ran through the forest again and was there within the hour.

I didn't expect to see much almost a month after the kill and I was right: there were no odd tracks, no visual clues that a human had been killed here at all, let alone a mythical beast. There was however, an unusual smell, something smoky and earthy. It was sort of like what Andrei had described as the beast's scent but not nearly as unpleasant; just…different. I was almost done looking about the area when the wind shifted in the trees, making the last of the fall leaves flutter like birds on the branches. At once the scent was intensified. _It's near_.

Like a hawk I was off, streaking through the woods in pursuit. I found him in a glade, hidden deep within the forest; just a boy, a young man really, beautiful and vulnerable. He was sprawled out on the hard ground as if he were in the most comfortable bed imaginable; an arm thrown up over his head, his breath coming out in slow puffs. His jet black hair was tousled and a few blades of grass had wormed their way in between the thick locks. He wore the rough clothes of a peasant and filled them out nicely with an obviously muscled body. Watching him sleep like this was making me hungry, and not just for his blood.

Despite his obvious comfort, he looked tired; the shadows under his eyes turned his olive toned skin a bruise-like color. He inhaled deeply and his eyes bolted open. Scrambling up he looked directly at me, transitioning from slumber to wary alertness in less than a second. I hadn't been hiding, since I came upon him sleeping, so I stood before him like what must have seemed a bizarre rendition of a fairy tale come to life: Little Red Riding Hood clad, not in her traditional garb, but in my midnight-black, leather hunting clothes, matching high-heeled boots and whimsical, red cape. What was most interesting about his reaction was that it showed fear rather than confusion. He knew, intuitively, how dangerous I was.

With a guttural snarl, he whirled about and bounded away through the trees, far faster than any human had the right or ability to be. I followed him without thinking; intrigued by his speed, alarmed that danger might still be lurking nearby. It took some effort, but I've always been quick, even for our kind, and I eventually caught up with him. Grabbing his shoulder, I spun him around. Simultaneously I pushed him to the ground, something I had been trained to do whenever ending a pursuit.

"Just do it," he whispered in abrupt defeat. His head fell limply down to his chest as his shoulders sagged wearily. "I don't even know why I'm running anymore. Just kill me so I can stop being a monster." _Of course!_ My mind finally comprehended what my body had been telling me all along. The scent in the glad, the way he was so alone, so fast: this boy was the werewolf.

And there he was, kneeling in front of me, just one more supplicant worshipping the goddess of death. I could give him what he wanted, what he needed: release from the torment of his curse. It was what I had been dispatched to do. And yet…I didn't want to. His blood didn't call to me and the idea of ripping him apart made my silent heart want to break. For the first time in over three hundred years, my will differed from that of my master.

I dropped down in front of him, cupping his cheek in my hand and raising his face so I could look into his eyes. "No."

His brow furrowed in confusion, then outrage. "What do you mean, 'No'?" He stood up and I mirrored his movements fluidly. "I know what you are: a cold one. My people know of your kind. You're the only thing that can kill me. Besides, your hunters have been after me for weeks. I'm tired of running and I don't want to see another full moon through the eyes of a monster. I know it's what you're here for. Just. Do. It." He growled the last three words at me, a mere inch from my face. As he spoke them, I heard my master's voice echoing the words in my head. _Greta, just do it!_ But every instinct in my body screamed in refusal. I wanted something from this boy, but not his death.

Impulsively I leaned forward, closing the tiny gap between us, and brushed my lips against his. He pulled back just a fraction of an inch in surprise. His eyes searched mine and for a moment my stomach clenched at the thought that he might reject me. Then his mouth crashed down on me, kissing me back with a hunger that matched my own. He grabbed me roughly, pulling me flush against him his mouth continued to move over mine. His hands, which had been clutching my arms, moved up to cradle my face, softening the urgency of his embrace, but not lessening it.

My hands wove into his soft, dark hair, holding him tightly to me, never wanting to let him go. He leaned back to look at me again and guarded fear was in his eyes. "Don't play a game with me. After all I've been through in the past few months; I won't be able to take it. If you'll love me, I'll be yours forever. But if you're going to hurt me, you'd better destroy me completely. Do you understand?" His words came out in cloudy puffs in the chill, autumn air.

I nodded in response. He didn't want to live like this anymore, not alone and I realized I felt the same way. Something that I hadn't even thought was lacking in my life was suddenly here before me. I knew in that instant I would never let him go.

"I will never hurt you," I whispered. "I promise." He closed his eyes, letting the truth of my words sink in. When he opened them again, I saw my words echoed back in their brown depths. This time, when he lowered his lips to mine, he went slowly, letting us savor the taste of each other. He tasted much like his scent, with the earthen flavors of I remembered hazily from my human days: roasted chestnuts and strong red wine. It was as heady and intoxicating as any spirit I had consumed all those years ago. His tongue swept into my mouth, coaxing mine out to duel languidly with his. He kissed me until I was senseless, my head falling back as he trailed searing kisses down my throat. He nudged the tie of my cape out of his way with his nose but was then interrupted by the leather neckline of my shirt and he pulled back for a moment to glare at the offending garment. He ripped it off savagely, then looked up with a feral smile before lavishing my newly exposed skin with attention.

His hands drifted down, skimming the skin of neck and collarbones, then sliding lower to whisper over the sides of my breasts. For a moment I thought he intended his touches to remain insubstantial and I arched into him just as his grasped me more fully, brushing my hardened nipples with his palms making me gasp. He pushed by bra down, letting it pool at my waist. His mouth was on my breasts then, licking and sucking my nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. The intense sensations of heat and wetness soon had my body responding in kind.

Just as I thought I was going to go mad from the pleasure he was giving me or the torture of feeling his body against mine but not in it, he pulled back, leaving my flesh to pucker and harden in the cool of his absence. I groaned a little in protest but was soon thrown against one of the enormous beech trees that surrounded us. The tree shook from the impact, showering us in golden leaves. Before I could even comment on our new location, his mouth was on me again, kissing me with fierce passion. But it wasn't my mouth he wanted just then and his lips quickly drifted back over the territory he had claimed, slowing as he reached flesh he had yet to explore. His head dipping ever lower, down the planes of my stomach to linger at my hips, running his tongue over the sensitive skin covering the bones that protruded there to the hollow of my navel and then lower.

Watching him kneel in front of me, pressing pleasure upon me was almost unbearable. I braced my hands on his thick shoulders, sinking my fingers into the hard muscles there. His fingers slipped into sides of my panties, pulling them down ever so slightly. He looked up at me, both asking for permission and daring me to deny I wanted it, and the dazed look of lust on my face was all he needed to see. In a flash, the flimsy fabric was gone, replaced by his hands and mouth as he first touched my wet flesh, then tasted it. We groaned in unison as his tongue plunged deep inside me, lapping up the liquid that was pooling there.

"_Sara Kali_, woman," he moaned as he continue to stroke me with his tongue and fingers. "You taste so good." He pushed my leg up over his shoulder, pulling me down to give him greater access, licking my slick flesh ravenously. When his tongue finally swirled over my clit, I exploded, gripping the tree behind me to prevent me from ripping his head from his shoulders.

He dropped my leg to stand up, brushing his lips, wet from my orgasm, across mine in a gentle kiss. "I've never tasted anything so sweet," he murmured. My tongue snaked out, tasting my essence on his face, and my hand reached down to stroke the hard length of him. He groaned again and I hummed in agreement as I tilted my hips up against him, still wanting more despite the pleasure he had already given me.

He undid the waist of his pants, letting them fall, then grabbed my waist, lifting me up to position himself at my aching entrance. Inexorably he slid inside me, filling and stretching me until my eyes widened at the sheer size of him. He grunted and I sighed as he sheathed himself fully inside me. He was so deep that I felt as if my body was more his than my own, until he started to move when I ceased to think at all.

Slowly he withdrew, leaving me aching for him. Swiftly he pushed back in. Again and again, he pounded into me, filling me, completing me until I was moaning loudly and my head was thrashing against the tree behind me.

"Tell me you want me," he whispered as his hips rocked powerfully into mine.

"I want you," I breathed back. "Desperately."

"Tell me you need me," he moaned. He was watching me intensely and even though he could see the truth in my jet black eyes I still spoke the words.

"I need you," I panted, "more than anything."

"You are mine, now," he growled. The tempo of his thrusts had sped up and I could tell he was as close as me. I felt my climax coming; the heat that had pooled low in my stomach was boiling now, ready to flow over.

As he crashed into me again, I screamed, "I'm yours! Sweet God, I'm just yours!" I came in waves around him and I could feel that I had pushed him over the edge, although I wasn't sure if it was the clenching of my body or the words I had shouted that had finally caused him to tumble after me in release.

As my forehead rested on his sweat-damp shoulder, I kissed the throbbing vein in his neck. I didn't know how I was going to handle the imminent displeasure of my sire and master, but at this moment I just didn't care. "You are mine," I whispered. "Forever."


End file.
